Love Bites
by the batclan
Summary: One of Bruce's many old flames returns, a poor maiden in need of a dark knight. Terry doesn't trust her, but Dana trusts her son! So much in fact Terry's soon out of the picture, but is this jealousy or something more sinister? And can Terry go up against
1. The Return of Bruce's Life

**Author: **Jillybean  
**AN: **So - I get to exposition *_does best 'Last time on-' voice*_  
Last time on ff.net . . . six authors felt the calling, yes, they realized their entire lives were just aiming to this one moment - when they would finally do . . . a collaboration. *_dun dun dun!!!_*  
  
So they got together, Dupidnavagog, Jillybean, Tomy, Calico, Smitty and Knottaclue and they started out on this epic adventure, full of dashing bats, cute kitties and [hopefully] good writing.   
  
Where this story will lead them - they do not know. Will you read this quest? Or are you afraid - mwahahahahahahahahahaha - *cough cough cough* ahahahahahahahahahahahaha-  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
_ The Return of Bruce's Life_  
  
Bruce had a variety of expressions. Terry knew that a lot of people thought he only ever scowled, but there was a huge range of 'scowl' that the old man could muster.  
Scowling should really be an olympic event, it would give the old man a chance to shine. Terry thought that would be only fair.  
  
You see, right now, Bruce's scowl was the kind he wore when Terry broke something in the Batcave. It was unbelievably pissed off expression at having the misfortune to have been born on Earth, instead of Perfectron where he _truly _belonged.   
  
But for once Terry was not the recipient. In fact, Terry was sitting very quietly in one of Bruce's sitting rooms. He didn't move or breathe or even blink just in case Bruce noticed him. He risked a sidelong look at the woman who sat on the sofa opposite Bruce. She was looking into her coffee cup.  
  
The reason for Bruce's scowl was actually this woman. And Terry already hated her. It had all started when she'd turned up-  
  
***  
_ Earlier  
_  
"Hannah?" Incredulation wasn't a tone that Terry even recognized when it came out of Bruce's voice box. He dragged a growling Ace closer to the door so that he could get a good look at this woman.  
She looked to be around 60, very tall and slim. She had a better figure than many women half her age, not athletic or toned - just 'I-go-to-the-gym-and-drink-fruit-smoothies'. She looked rich. Even dripping wet from the rain, dressed in the shabbiest clothing she looked extremely rich. Her wheat coloured hair was becoming grey at the roots, obviously she hadn't been to the salon in a while.  
  
"Bruce! Oh _thank _God!" She exclaimed, breaking down into tears and flinging herself at him. Bruce fumbled to drop his stick and catch her in time. Terry put a steadying hand on his mentor's shoulder and stooped to pick the stick up.  
"Mom?" A deeper voice asked, and from the car in the drive a boy who was Terry's age struggled up the path. He was carrying a massive leather suitcase that was bursting at the seams. Terry would have gone to help, but he figured he was more helpful if he didn't let Ace savage the kid.  
  
***  
  
As always he was relegated kitchen duty, and he barely made it up the large stairs to the sitting room with the antique silver tray in his hands.  
Hannah and her son were in there with Bruce. Her son was watching the rain fall disinterestedly, while Hannah was sitting opposite Bruce on the high-backed sofa. Her legs were curled beneath her and her mascara was slightly smudged, though she'd done her best to clear it.  
  
"Thank you." She said sincerely when he put the tray down on the low table. He smiled at her then looked to the kid.  
"I think there's Coke downstairs if you want it." He suggested. The boy rolled his eyes.  
"Coffee'll do me fine." He said, but he didn't take any. Bruce shot Terry a look and obediently Terry sat down out of the way, waiting to hear what was to be said.  
  
"This old tea set, eh?" Hannah asked, tracing a hand on the silver tray with affection. Bruce smiled [Stop the press - he actually smiled!] and nodded.  
"It's a family heirloom." He told her. Hannah smiled.  
"Sons mean so much, don't they? I don't know what I would have done these past few months if not for Craig - oh!" She choked and put a hand over her mouth, emitting a high pitched squeal that heralded more tears.  
  
"Sssh, ssh." Bruce said, leaning forward and patting her shoulder awkwardly. "What's wrong Hannah?"  
"Oh I'm sorry Bruce, I shouldn't have come here. It's so dangerous. If I'd had known you had family . . ." She looked to Terry as if her heart had broken. Bruce and Terry stared for a second, then both leapt to correct her opinion.  
"Oh no! No! Bruce isn't my dad!"  
"Terry's my personal assistant. He helps me with odd jobs and stuff, you know the type." Bruce said to her reassuringly, still patting her shoulder. "But why is it dangerous?"  
  
"Oh I shouldn't have come!" She wailed again. Her son came forward, looking slightly less pissed off and more worried.  
"My mother thought you might be able to help us. Because you were Bat-" He cut himself off, realizing he might have said too much. Bruce turned stony eyes on Hannah.  
"I thought I told you that that was _our _little secret?"  
"I had to tell him Brucie - you don't understand. Let me tell it from the beginning."  
  
"I'm listening." Bruce told her coolly.  
  
"Ten years ago my sister Devon discovered she wasn't first in line for Daddy's inheritance. Daddy was dying you see and he was leaving me everything. You remember Devon, don't you?"  
"Yes." Bruce managed, Terry could see that behind Bruce's eyes he held a great respect for Devon, more than he did for Hannah, who was continuing.  
  
"She was always the clever one, good at sports, she could figure things like business out. It was a shock for both of us when it turn out I was going to inherit the lot! Craig was only ten at the time and it was just after my husband Charlie had died. I thought it was stroke of luck - I wasn't going to have to worry about money anymore. And I would have shared it with her - really!"  
"So what happened? Was Devon angry?" Bruce asked. He sounded like he expected her to be.  
"Furious! You know she always lost her temper. Like that time Selina Kyle and her got into a cat fight at the gallery, do you remember? That night Devon was your date?"  
"Hannah, why is it dangerous?" Bruce pressed, glancing at Terry to see if he'd guessed why the cat fight had started. Terry had, but was working hard to control the grin.  
  
"Right! Of course, sorry. Craig will tell you I'm always reminiscing about the good old days. Well - nothing really happened until last year when our car blew up."  
"What?" Terry asked in surprise.   
"Our car blew up." Hannah repeated, totally matter of fact. "It was a bomb of course, planted by a hit man Devon had hired. We've been running ever since."  
  
"Why come here though?" Terry asked.  
"Because she knows." Bruce had said.  
  
***  
  
And that brought them to the uncomfortable scenario they were at now. Terry stayed very quiet, hoping Bruce wouldn't fly into a rage and rip one of them to shreds.  
  
"You see, one night when we were dating Bruce had to - uh - well he had to go and be Batman." Hannah explained nervously. "It all sort of happened that night, and I found out. I thought maybe Batman could help me." She stood up slowly, looking for all the world like a martyr going to her death.  
"But if you won't Bruce. I understand." She whispered, letting a single tear fall from her left eye. Bruce grimaced and stood up too. He hugged her, stroking her hair.  
"Of course I'll help you." He whispered. "You'll need a place to stay. Terry, show Craig the spare rooms."  
  
***  
  
"So how did you two meet?" Terry asked as he suited up that night. Bruce glared at him.  
"Hey! I was just asking." Terry muttered, pulling the cowl over his head.  
"It was at a public function if you must know." Bruce growled. Terry nodded sagely.   
"Ahh - the rich daughter. Must have been quite a catch-" He flinched as Bruce rounded on him.  
"Tonight you're to pay special attention to the hotels of Gotham. If Devon's in town then I'm betting Selina will pay her a little visit. One thing you should know about cats - they don't like their pride bruised."   
And then Bruce grinned. Wickedly.  



	2. Claws and Wills

Love Bites Part II – "Claws and Wills"  
By: Calico

            There was a soft tap to the door.  "Come in," Hannah called out and Craig entered the room.  She was removing her belongings from her suitcase and he stood watching her with arms crossed over his chest.

            "So do you think he bought it?" he young man asked with a cool, even voice.

            Hannah looked up at him with the smile of a proud mother.  "Hook, line, and sinker.  Bruce has always had a soft spot for sob stories."

            "You had better be certain, you're betting our inheritance on it."

            Hannah removed the toiletry bag from her case and opened it.  From within she withdrew a delicate crystal perfume bottle.  There were no manufacturer markings upon it, nor any mass-produced labels identifying it, just two letters ornately etched into the glass – PI.  It was a special blend, made specifically for Hannah as payback for a favor.  The favor had been quite costly to Hannah, but she felt it was worth every drop.  She unscrewed the cap and dabbed a small amount of the potent liquid behind her ears.  It wasn't strong enough to affect just anyone in her general proximity, but if she, say, fell into someone's arms, they would get just enough of a whiff to come under its spell.

            With a knowing smile she turned to her boy.  "More than certain, my sweet.  But it's the other one I'm more concerned about.  I want you to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get in our way."

            "What do you mean?" he asked with a confused expression.  "He's just a kid."

            She sighed.  "Darling, you really aren't the brightest bulb in the box, are you?  Dear old Brucie certainly isn't putting on the tights and mask these days.  He must have somebody younger doing it for him…"

            "Oh!  Terry is the new Batman!" Craig cried out in understanding.

            Hannah nodded proudly.  "So find out what you can about him.  Anything could be used to our advantage if he gets too close to the truth."

            "Very well," he agreed and walked over bending down as if to give her a kiss on the cheek.

            "Uh uh," she warned him, putting a hand on his chest to keep him at bay.  Then she kissed her fingertips and pressed them against his face.  "Go on, Darling.  That key will be as good as ours soon and all our troubles will be behind us."

            Once Craig had departed and Hannah had finished unpacking, she sat on the bed and looked out of the window.  Bruce always had a thing for the bad girls.  It was a character flaw that was going to come back to haunt him.

30 years ago

            "Bruce!" an annoyed voice cried out as the billionaire bachelor pushed through the crowd, the svelte brunette prowling gracefully beside him.  "Bruce, who is this?"

            "Devon," Bruce Wayne said apologetically.  "This is Selina Kyle.  Selina, this is…"

            "I _know_ who she is," Devon cut him off.  "What I want to know is what is she doing with you.  I'm your date for this evening."

            Bruce blinked at her.  "Of course you are, Devon.  I found Selina admiring the jade panther sculpture.  She's here alone, so I invited her to join us."  With that he leaned forward and placed a solicitous kiss on Devon's cheek while Selina grinned with amusement.

            "Don't worry, cupcake," she taunted.  "Bruce and I are old friends, but we decided long ago that we couldn't be anything more.  Your claim to him is perfectly safe; from me that is.  Though, considering you stole him from your own sister, I'd say he's fair game."

            Devon bristled at her tone and Bruce looked clueless as to what was happening right under his nose.  In reality, he was sighing deep down inside.  Once he'd seen Catwoman cast her felonious gaze on the priceless statue, he knew that he had to keep an eye on her, even though it would seriously dampen his evening.

            "Ladies," he said with a smile.  "Shall we?"  He placed a hand on each of their backs and began escorting them around the gallery.  Across the room, watching them, Hannah seethed as she sipped her champagne.  Her beautiful, successful sister always had to have the best of everything – clothing, cars, men – especially men, even if they happened to belong to someone else.  Hannah swore to herself that she'd get even one day.

            What happened later in the evening was the stuff of urban legends, and Hannah herself could only say she believed it simply because she was there.

            The Joker had attacked the show.  Bruce had predictably disappeared shortly before the Batman showed up to engage him.  Selina Kyle had used that opportunity to slip away and return as Catwoman to claim her feline prize while all attention was diverted away.  Devon, still stinging from their earlier exchange, noticed her attempted theft and tried to stop her.  What ensued was a battle of wills and claws.  Having been trained in Aikido, Devon was stunning and fierce and gave as good as she got, though in all honesty, Catwoman was hindered by her prize, which eventually fell from her grasp during an attempt to outmaneuver her opponent.  Seeing that Batman had finished cleaning up the Joker's mess, Catwoman knew she'd run out of time.  Lashing out in anger she swiped at Devon's face with her claws and managed to snag the large antique locket from around her neck, a family heirloom passed down from generations long gone.

            "I guess this will have to suffice, cupcake," Catwoman sneered as she back flipped away, and out the window.

            "No!" Devon yelled and tried to follow her, but by the time she reached the window, Catwoman was nowhere to be seen.

            Devon had cried about the loss of her necklace for months afterwards, not to mention the four scratch marks in her left cheek that never quite healed properly.  Hannah had been solemn and consoling on the outside while inside she had silently cheered at her sister's misfortune.

            It wasn't until years later she would sorely regret feeling so happy about it.

            You see, her father didn't just suddenly decide to leave all his wealth to his younger daughter.  Devon being by far his favorite was meant to inherit everything, leaving Hannah with a mere stipend on which to live.  This was why she had married Craig's father, a successful investment banker, who eventually ran off with his secretary to the Caribbean along with several millions of dollars he'd embezzled from his company.

            Alone with a young son, she knew her only means of survival was her father's money.

            So, scraping together every dollar she could, Hannah proceeded with a plan to forge a new will, leaving her as the sole beneficiary upon his passing.  She'd even hired a crook to break in and switch the wills.

            It was flawless, so perfect that her father's lawyers had no idea.  Devon was furious.  Shortly after the funeral she cornered Hannah like a rabid dog, and told her that their father's distrust of Hannah ran so deep that he'd given Devon a copy of his true will along with a letter that explained any deviation was a result of Hannah's deceit.

            Devon had placed both documents in a safe deposit box of the First National Bank of Gotham where it could easily be retrieved except for one minor detail – the bank's rules explicitly state that without the box holder's key the box could not be opened, nor could a replacement key be issued.  It was a safeguard designed to thwart even the most devious con artist.  And Devon had always kept the key very close, wearing it in the antique locket, which had been stolen by Catwoman so many years earlier.

            Devon vowed to track down the locket, her determination doubled by the vendetta with Selina Kyle.

            So for these past ten years the sisters had each desperately been searching for Catwoman and the missing locket.  Devon had always been the superior of the two, so it would only be a matter of time.  When news of a new Batman started filtering through town, Hannah knew it was time to play her trump card.

            There was a knock at the door.  She stood from her bed and went to answer it.  "I just wanted to make sure you were settling in alright," Bruce asked.

            "Oh, Bruce, that is so sweet of you!" she cried and threw her arms around his neck.  "I feel so safe knowing you're right here to protect me.  And I know you would do anything I say, wouldn't you?"

            After a moment pause he replied, "Yes, I would do anything you say."


	3. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Bat

"Terry," Bruce's voice came through the comlink, "head to the Vreeland Plaza, room 10137. Devon is ready to strike, and you need to stop her." Terry steered toward upper Gotham. Strange, he thought, is that feedback coming from the comlink? Terry turned down his MP3 player, and listened closely. It sounded like - slurping?  
  
"Uh, you have any more details than that?" Terry kept listening. Bruce usually spewed excessive amounts of data at him, but this time he was silent. Terry heard more slurps, and some whispers from a female voice. What was the old guy doing? Does he watch giant porn on that huge monitor while I'm on patrol? Terry thought, both disgusted and amused.  
  
"Just do it, McGinnis!" he barked. Before Bruce closed the line, Terry thought he heard him say, "Turn around - oh yeah." Terry shuddered.  
  
"That's it, I'll never try to steal the big chair again - you've just ruined it for me forever," he proclaimed to the dead air. Terry felt dirty all over, and just wanted to scrub his ears out with lye. I guess this was Hannah's hold over Bruce - the hold all women had over heterosexual men - Terry thought. Even still, there was something else that seemed strange about Bruce, although he couldn't describe it. I guess I'm on my own tonight, Terry mused.  
  
The Plaza was just ahead. Terry sped past, deciding to find what he hoped would be a reliable source of information about the "good old days".  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
"Hannah Sinclair?" Barbara Gordon nearly choked. "She was the easiest lay of all the Gotham debutantes. You name one guy," her voice dropped, "you name one guy who didn't get a piece of that ass, and I swear, he must be either gay or dead." They sat facing each other in a near-deserted coffee shop. Terry switched back into his street clothes for this meeting. He loved having these talks with the Commish - Bruce could be so tight-lipped. Terry leaned forward conspiringly.  
  
"Well I think our friend is getting a piece of that ass right now, as we speak." Barbara's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"No!"  
  
"I'm dead serious - I could hear things," he admitted, sick all over again from the recollection. Barbara sat back.  
  
"No way, not without roofies or something similar," she said. "After he found out what she was really after, he would never let her back." Terry cocked his head, causing Barbara to smile, thinking how he must have learned the art of persuasion from Ace. "Maybe thirty years ago, Bruce was dating Hannah. It was his 'good girl' phase - relative term that 'good girl' is - he thought maybe that's what he needed to get Selina Kyle out of his system. After a few months, he noticed things were 'missing' from the Manor. He didn't want to believe it was her doing - he really did care about her, in that injured bird sort of way. But the Bat inside him couldn't let it go, so he tracked her. After about three days, he watched her pocket about ten thousand creds' worth of jewelry and cash." She took a long sip of her latte.  
  
"I knew I didn't like her, Commish - something I couldn't trust about her," Terry said, idly dunking his donut into his coffee.  
  
"And you shouldn't, kid," was her response.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++  
  
Batman parked on the Plaza rooftop and jumped off the building. His wings snapped open, and directed him to the balcony of Devon's hotel room. He activated his cloaking device, and peered through the French doors. He saw the front door closing, a swish of black fabric escaping down the hall. Batman dove off again, this time to the ground floor. Terry banked on Devon going to the valet for her car. He was right. As her black Porsche slowed to an idle, he placed a tracer under the rear bumper, and slipped away.  
  
The Batman tailed her for several blocks. She pulled into a narrow alley and enabled the car's cloaking feature. Choosing to park on a rooftop again, he followed her from above. She walked for about a block before entering a sleek apartment building. Fortunately, this building had enough windows that he could watch her movement from across the street. When Devon stopped to knock on a door, Terry soared around the building to the back window of the apartment. From his perch, he watched as a middle-aged woman answered the door. The apartment held a multitude of feline statues and artwork - there was no question of who this gray-haired woman was. Terry placed two fingers on the window and listened.  
  
"Do I know you?" Selina greeted flatly. Devon, the larger of the two women, pushed past her.  
  
"Just give me what's mine, and I'll be on my way." She stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, Selina's mouth curled into a sly grin.  
  
"Aah, the cupcake is back for her pretty," she said. "You've been away so long, I thought you'd forgotten about it." She closed the gap between them. Devon stood fast.  
  
"I'm not leaving until I get it, Selina," she replied. Selina kept smiling.  
  
"You know, I just don't remember where I put it - did I fence it, or just sell it on eBay?" she looked up at the ceiling and tapped her chin mockingly.  
  
"Then let me help you remember," Devon snapped, snatching an alabaster cat and hurling it against the wall. "oh, I guess not all cats land on their feet," she said innocently after the statue fell broken on the floor. A scowl darkened Selina's features.  
  
"That's it, cupcake, you're getting that spanking Daddy never gave you!" she leapt forward and made contact to Devon's jaw with her foot. Devon fell to her back as Selina stood over her menacingly. She didn't expect Devon to topple her with a strong leg sweep. Terry didn't know what to do - shouldn't he intervene - but if so, on whose behalf? He continued watching the gray-haired ladies exchange blows.  
  
"That's OK, I've been drinking my milk," Selina taunted, "It'll take more than that to even hurt me." She threw herself again at Devon, this time leaping onto her and pinning her shoulders back. She landed a few solid head blows before Devon threw Selina off and picked herself up, lungs heaving. Selina was in better shape than Devon, Terry thought, and in a few minutes the society girl would be Selina's plaything. Eyes still on the battling women, he reached for his cel phone and called Gotham PD.  
  
"Yes, I'd like to report a complaint," he started, in his Terry voice. "At the Astoria, room 77M. Sounds like domestic abuse, or a fight - can you send some officers over? Yes, I'm sure of the address. Great - thanks so much." He clicked the phone off and smiled. With any luck, the GCPD will arrest both these women, and leave him the opportunity to search Selina's apartment.  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Craig was unfamiliar with lower Gotham. He followed the street signs to their designated meeting spot, constantly looking over his shoulders and pulling his hat further down over his eyes. After one of these quick glances around, he appeared. The tall, tattooed man stood only a foot away from him, and seemed to come from nowhere. He looked sternly down at Craig. Nervously, Craig dug into his pocket for the photograph.  
  
"I need you to do a job for me," he started as he handed over the picture. The Stalker coolly studied the woman's face. "She's here in town, shouldn't be hard to find. I can even tell you what car she drives. If that helps."  
  
"I'm not an assassin. There are others you can contact for this cheap diversion. What is the thrill in this hunt?"  
  
"Money. I can give you lots of it - once the job is done." He handed Stalker a piece of paper with an amount scrawled on one side. Stalker raised an eyebrow, suddenly more interested. Craig started feeling bolder.  
  
"So are you in?"  
the one they call Dupidnavagog 


	4. Lovers' Quarrels

Chapter 4: Lovers' Quarrels By Smitty  
***  
Terry overslept the next day. It was getting to be a habit.  
  
Unfortunately, it was a habit that was costing him not only a pre- class status check with Max, but a pre-class snuggle with Dana. He hadn't stood her up last night, which was a scratch for him in the plus column, but it came at the expense of never having asked her out last night, which pretty much made that scratch moot. It was a thing of importance, he mused as he walked into his first class, that he be on hand before school started to be able to stand around with his arm around Dana. It was a matter of staking his claim. Marking his turf. Reminding the rest of the guys lurking around that although you'd hardly know it sometimes, Dana Tan was taken.  
  
"Terry, we gotta talk," Max said bluntly, turning around in her seat. "You're in trouble, boy."  
  
"Um." Terry was saved from having to finish that though by the school bell, announcing the commencement of first period.  
  
"You better sit down," Max informed him.  
  
"Maxine," the teacher interrupted, sounding exasperated. "This oh-so- vital news of yours can wait 'til after class, I guarantee it. Now, Mr. McGinnis, let's talk about the integral of 64-x-squared, shall we?"  
  
***  
  
"Integrals are the opposite of derivatives, Ter," Max said as Terry shouldered his backpack and left the classroom.  
  
"Yeah, thanks for the update," Terry told her, feeling thoroughly thrashed. "Now what's this about important news?"  
  
"Yeah, well, since Dana couldn't find you last night." Max gave him a significant look, "she decided that the three of us needed a girls' night out and--uh-oh."  
  
Terry was already thinking uh-oh. Terry was thinking uh-oh for a different reason than Max was thinking uh-oh, although that reason was coming.  
  
Because leaning with his forearm braced on Dana Tan's locker--Terry's usual pose--was Hannah's son, Craig. And even more worrisome, under that arm stood Dana Tan, looking up at Craig with starry eyes.  
  
"'Scuse me," Terry mumbled, walking ahead of Max.  
  
"Don't kill him," Max hissed back. "It won't look good, Ter!"  
  
"Hey," Terry announced, stepping up to the happy pair.  
  
"Terry!" Dana exclaimed. "Look, Terry, we need to talk." She glanced at Craig. "Alone."  
  
Craig nodded and smirked at Terry. "Good luck, McGinnis," he sneered before stepping away.  
  
"Look, Terry," Dana started.  
  
"Dana, that guy's dangerous," Terry interrupted, gesturing at Craig's retreating back.  
  
"Terry, I know you're mad," Dana said, looking up at him sadly. "But I called last night and your mom said you weren't home. And you're never home, Terry. Never at home, never with me, and half the time, you aren't even at school. Where were you this morning? I looked for you and you never came."  
  
"I was late," Terry explained, though he knew he was just digging himself deeper. "I overslept."  
  
"I met Craig last night," Dana explained, as though Terry hadn't said a thing. "And I hate the idea that I'm giving up my life to stick with a guy I never see and I feel like I barely even know anymore. I still like you a lot, Terry, but I can't put my life on hold for you." She turned away, leaving Terry standing dumbstruck at her locker. The warning bell rang in his ear, reminding him that he was going to be late for another class if he didn't get a move on. He ignored it and ran after Dana anyway.  
  
"Dana," he said as he caught up to her.  
  
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Terry," Dana pled, not looking at him. "Ok," Terry said, blocking her way. "I'll leave you alone if that's what you really want. But promise me something."  
  
"What?" Dana's hair fell across her eyes and Terry suppressed the urge to push it back.  
  
"Be careful around Craig. I don't trust him."  
  
"You just met him."  
  
"No, I--"  
  
"Terry, we'll be late," Dana said, pushing around him and disappearing into the throng of students trying to get to their classes on time.  
  
"Dana, wait!" Terry called, but it was too late. She was gone. He watched helplessly as students scattered left and right. The last bell rang as Terry stood in the middle of the hallway alone.  
  
***  
  
Bruce Wayne wasn't much of a morning person. Oh, he could make a good show of it, but when it came right down to it, keeping up after Terry-- and now Hannah--every night was just not conducive to early rising.  
  
Still, after Terry's report from the night before, the idea of catching the morning news was an appealing one, so Bruce hauled himself out of bad and found the appropriate broadcast.  
  
"For those of you who kept up with the lifestyles of the rich and beautiful fifty years ago," the newswoman said brightly, "a blast from the past last night as police were called in a domestic disturbance at the home of former socialite Selina Kyle." Behind the newswoman, a picture of Selina from her glory days appeared next to a picture of Selina from the night before--scratched, hair wild, a vicious snarl on her face. "It seems Ms. Kyle was engaged in quite a tangle with Devon Sinclair Lydecker. Whether this was a lover's quarrel or a continued battle in their legendary competition for the affections of Bruce Wayne, we may never know." The newswoman smiled and moved on to the next story, but the screen froze.  
  
"And they didn't even mention me," Hannah commented, clicking on the "More Info" link at the bottom of the screen.  
  
Bruce chuckled. "That's because there's no more competition, is there?" he asked. There was something odd, something he should be looking for. A connection of some sort. Terry. Terry had told him to look for this and Terry had been in Selina's building.why?  
  
"Mm, darling, you look like you have something on your mind," Hannah commented, sliding into the chair with him. She nuzzled against his cheek. "Let me take it off."  
  
All thoughts of conspiracy fled Bruce's mind as he smelled her exquisite perfume.  
  
"Yes," he agreed, turning his attention to Hannah. "Let's take it off."  
  
***  
  
Three hours later, Hannah stood in front of the address she'd gotten from the news report. So this was where Selina Kyle lived, now. Seems she hadn't done too badly from all her escapades.  
  
But Selina's social status wasn't really what Hannah had come to see. No, what she really wanted to know was what Devon had been doing here, and whether she had found what she was looking for.  
  
Ringing the bell got her no answer, so she banged directly on the door.  
  
"Selina!" she called. "I know you're in there. Come out and talk to me, you miserable old bird!"  
  
"I prefer," Selina said, yanking the door open, ".cat. Hannah Sinclair. Trailing along after your sister as usual." She turned and sauntered back into her apartment, calling back over her shoulder, "I know what you're looking for, my pretty."  
  
"Of course you do," Hannah said, stepping in and closing the door behind her. "And I take it you've protected it well over the years?"  
  
***  
  
Stalker's face creased into an expression of pleasure as he watched the two women. This was going to be easy money.  
***  
End Chapter Four 


	5. Decisions and Compulsions

In the shroud of night's darkness Stalker continued observing the two aged women. Framed through the lighted apartment window he could see they were feinting with each other, heated words as their weapon of choice. He was glad not knowing the content of their exchange, having learned that most people in this country spoke endlessly without saying anything. Where he came from, the fewer words spoken, the more wisdom was shared.  
  
A soft, unexpected whisper of sound caught his attention. He shifted position on the window ledge and lifted his face, nose sniffing the acrid Gotham air. Nostrils flared as he gathered in the familiar scent only a few feet away. A smile lit the tattoed face and he spoke out in his deep, measured voice,  
  
"Friends of yours Batman?"  
  
"Nope." A disembodied reply drifted in the dark between them. "But they better be yours or I'll have to nail you for being a 'peeping Stalker'"  
  
Stalker chuckled not at the words, but at the bravado of the young pup who played at being the protector of this concrete and metal jungle. He had taken measure of the youth in the past and found him to be a passable opponent. One day he would reach his prime and it was then 'the Stalker' would test him in the hunt again. Until then he would bide his time and perhaps teach Batman a lesson or two along the way.  
  
"Approaching downwind is a wise choice for the hunter to catch his prey unaware."  
  
"Is there a reason why I should be hunting you?"  
  
"Not yet." He smiled again and watched with satisfaction as Batman materialized in exactly the spot he expected him to be. The pointy-eared head tilted in a quizzical manner.  
  
"Come on jungle man. You're not one for word games. What're you up to? Hunting old, rich women can't be much of a challenge for you."  
  
Stalker stiffened. The youngster's words spoke truth. Was his honor worth any sum of money? Perhaps he should reconsider the offer he was given.  
  
A high-pitched screech penetrated the soundproof apartment wall. Stalker and Batman turned heads in unison to see one of the women pushing the other out the door. The pushee was protesting loudly while the pusher managed to get the door between them and close it soundly in her face. The pusher grinned and leaned breathless against the door, her body bouncing in synch with the loud thumping sounds shaking the apartment.  
  
"Whew!" Batman remarked under his breath. "Glad I'm not that door."  
  
Turning to face Stalker, he realized the man had slipped away without him noticing. "Darn." Terry chastised himself, knowing Bruce would do it for him if he had been aware. "I gotta learn to be more alert."  
  
Thinking of Bruce... where was his always-on-the-mark mentor? Been on patrol for four hours without the man checking in to spout off at least one line of sage dialogue. Obviously he wasn't with Hannah since she was here duking it out with Selina. What was the story between all these women and what was really going on between Bruce and Hannah?  
  
He'd never seen Bruce so... unBrucelike. Kind of bizarre the way things appeared. Granted, Bruce Wayne a.k.a. THE Batman, was not a good example of what one might call normal. Was it possible that he was-- getting senile? Nah! No way.  
  
A quiet beep in his ear alerted Terry to an incoming call. A sideways glance beneath the cowl identified the caller and one touch of a finger activated the link. Max did not waste time on greetings as she blurted out worridly.  
  
"Dana's in trouble Terry. He got her away from us when we weren't watching. We didn't th- "  
  
"Who's got her?"  
  
"Craig! He's got her under a spell or something. She's acting all weird around him. And the guy is clearly playing it to his advantage. Chelsea, Blade and I were taking turns keeping tabs on her to make sure she didn't do anything stupid. It was my- "  
  
"Wha- stupid as in... " Terry prompted urgently, his mind refusing to take Max's meaning.  
  
"As in--" her tone took on a deep, seductive note. "Hey baby, come on, let's do it.' and Dana replying-- " now her voice became excited and breathless. "Oh, yes!"  
  
Max's imitation of a willing partner stirred sudden strange vibes in Terry which he quickly exchanged for anger at Dana's probable compromise. Max was not one to exaggerate.  
  
"Dana is not like that. She just met the guy!"  
  
"Riiiiiight." Max drawled knowingly. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. Craig has taken her somewhere and we haven't been able to find them."  
  
"Where's the last place you saw her?"  
  
"Outside Cheesy Dan's. It was my turn to watch her and Craig. We were finished at Cheesy's and heading to the Club when I remembered I promised to get Matt one of those hero figures he collects. They said they'd wait for me, but when I got back they were gone. So I went to the Club and they weren't there and no one had seen them come in or leave."  
  
"Maybe they went to Dana's place."  
  
"I called and the machine picked up."  
  
"That doesn't mean she's not there. One of you should check it out."  
  
"I'm heading there now. Chelsea and Blade are going to a couple of other possible destinations, but... Terry, I've got a really bad feeling about this."  
  
"Me too. I'll get back to the mansion. Craig might have taken her there."  
  
"Keep in touch okay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Terry stepped off the ledge, wings out and body angling to catch the air currents. His jaw ached from gritted teeth as tension built inside and his thoughts raged at what he would do to Craig if the creep did anything to hurt Dana.  
  
**************  
  
"Bruuuce?"  
  
The man in question grimaced in mental pain at the high-pitched, whiny summons. He pictured himself crawling away on hands and knees if that's what it took to avoid Hannah. But he couldn't do it. All he could do was remain motionless as she approached and know he would do whatever she asked of him. The rational part of his mind was well aware, by now, that he was being chemically manipulated. The unrational part didn't care about the facts, it could only respond the way it was told to.  
  
Hannah wrapped her arms around his neck and slid down onto the chair beside him.  
  
"Hold me." she mewled, the throbbing of her bruised hands and soured encounter with Selina having set her present mood. "I'm so unhappy."  
  
Bruce fought her command, but his arms still came up to embrace her as she cuddled close. Her perfume wafted around his face. He turned his head away.  
  
"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm so unhappy?"  
  
"Why are you - unhappy darling?"  
  
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I just need to go shopping. It'll make me feel so much better."  
  
"Then -- that's what you should do. I- want you to be happy." Bruce forced an ingratiating grin, knowing it was what she wanted to see.  
  
"Do you really mean that?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Would you give me a million creds so I can be extremely happy?"  
  
"If -- if that's what you want." His eyes widened in shock at what his mouth had just agreed to. And yet... he could have said nothing else.  
  
"Oh yes! Yes! Thank you Bruce!" Hannah hugged him, neck to neck. "Would you arrange it immediately?"  
  
"Well I --"  
  
"Bruce, you must."  
  
"Yes - of course - immediately."  
  
Hannah rose from the chair, pulling Bruce along with her and handing him his cane. She watched his unsteady gait as he traveled to his downstairs office to arrange a transfer of funds to her account. So simple. A million just by asking. Hmmm. Maybe she was going at riches in all the wrong ways. Forget Selina Kyle, Devon and the will. It all paled beside the wealth Bruce Wayne possessed. And it could all be hers -- just by asking.  
  
************** 


	6. Vacationing at the ICU

"I don't know, Chels," Dana moaned, cradling her head in her hands, "I don't know what came over me." The three girls sat huddled together in a divey coffee shop, away from any of the cool hangouts. Quinzel's Diner - just the name alone was unschway. A wiry, middle-aged man brought their orders - coffee and an assortment of cheesecakes. Chelsea nodded sympathetically. Her eyes urged Dana to continue. "It was like, one minute everything was normal, and the next I'd do anything for him. I just got this urge, and couldn't help myself."  
  
"Like an animal attraction, you mean?" the blonde girl offered. "If that's what it is, girlfriend, it happens to us all eventually."  
  
Dana lifted her head quizzically. "What do you mean?"  
  
"A purely sexual relationship," Chelsea stated simply. "Sometimes you meet someone, and going out with them really doesn't make any sense, except on that one, basic level. Don't feel bad," she put a hand on Dana's arm, "it doesn't make you a bad person. If this is a sex-only thing, the only question that matters is," her eyes sparked devilishly, "was he any good?" Max groaned distastefully. Truly, Chelsea made her sick sometimes. Dana blushed furiously.  
  
"Chelsea!" she cried indignantly before lowering her voice. "Even that was wierd. I mean, he's OK and all, and from what I remember he didn't do anything that special, like he wasn't better than Terry." She paused, surprised at the pain she felt from mentioning him. "But I guess it was the moment, I must have really been in the mood, because Oh. My. God. It was like romance-novel hot." Chelsea giggled. Max scowled, stabbing her fork into the strawberry cheesecake.  
  
"Sounds like a fling to me - go Dane," she teased. "What's wrong, Max? It's not like you can't go have your fun, too," Chelsea ribbed.  
  
"Yeah yeah," she said, "but I'm not going to waste my time until I find something better." Chelsea and Dana shot daggers at her. Max quickly turned it around. "But it's not about me. We're here about you, Dane, and you want to know what bothers me? It's that this is so unlike you." She paused to gulp some coffee, washing down a hunk of blueberry cheesecake. "I don't get what Craig has over you, and neither do you. I mean, how long did you make Terry hold out?" Dana sat back reflectively. Of course, she had asked herself the same question over a hundred times just this morning.  
  
"Six months," she whispered. Terry had to prove himself, pass all kinds of girlish tests before she offered - he was her first, her only, until last night. And Craig - maybe he wasn't as loving, or funny, or sweet, but dammit, Terry was never around. That's how she validated her whole relationship with Craig - Terry was never around. So she clung to it like a rope over a cliff. She hazarded a glance into Max's eyes. Max looked neither triumphant nor combative, just confused. "I wish I knew, Max, but I really don't know why it happened. Or how we even ended up in the situation." Dana took a long sip of coffee. "I can't believe that he just suggested it over dessert, and I went along with that - there must have been more."  
  
"No, that was it," Max said, "that's all he said." She picked at the graham cracker crust, then looked directly at Dana. "Did you guys use protection, at least?" Dana's eyes dropped. She didn't need to speak for Max to know the answer.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Max waited as long as she could before calling Terry. God, I don't want to have this conversation, she thought as she pressed the speed-dial to his cel phone. He picked up on the first ring.  
  
"Max." He checked his Caller ID.  
  
"Yo. So I talked to Dana today." Rip the Bandaid off fast, she repeated to herself. She knew Terry was holding his breath.  
  
"She didn't know what came over her. She sounded really freaked out about it." Terry waited in silence for her to continue. Max closed her eyes. "It happened in his car, at some parking lot. She didn't use protection." Several seconds of silence passed before Max heard a short growl and the sound of something breaking.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
She imagined him rubbing his knuckles, bruised from punching whatever just broke. She took a deep breath before continuing.  
  
"Ter. The thing is, she had no idea how it happened. And none of this is like her. And isn't that exactly what you said about the old guy, ever since the helpless chick showed up?" Seconds passed. She could hear Terry mulling this over.  
  
"I gotta drop in on him," he finally said. "Max, I really need you to watch Dane for me. Can you get her to stay at your place?"  
  
"I'll try." Max paused. She was relieved this conversation was over, though her hands were sweating. "Um, are you going to be OK?"  
  
"Just watch over her. And this time do a better job."  
  
"Like you need to tell me," Max quipped to the dead air.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Terry focused intently on the asphalt strip ahead of him. He was hoping, as he wound up the two-lane pass to the Manor, that this in-car meditation would keep his brain from exploding with fury over Craig and Dana. Stay cool and do your job, McGinnis, he repeated to himself, as the Manor came into view. He thanked God Craig's car was not out front. In fact, neither was Hannah's - he felt especially lucky, but not really.  
  
He was sitting in his car, listening to the phone ring. Once, twice. "Wayne."  
  
"it's me. You alone?"  
  
"For now. Terry, I need your help."  
  
"I know. I wanted to talk to you about-"  
  
"Yes. But I want you to call 9-1-1."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Come in the front, and call 9-1-1. Now!"  
  
Terry groaned and jumped out of the car. Was he the only sane person in Gotham? he wondered. He ran up the front stairs, punched in his access code, and swung the heavy door open. Bruce was in the parlor, lying back on the sofa. He turned his head slightly towards Terry.  
  
"Tell them you found me unconscious, that you think I'm having a heart attack." Terry's face whitened. "I'll be OK," Bruce assured, "I need a private room, surveillance, absolutely no visitors." Got it, Terry thought, as he dialed the number, and relayed the message in a distraught voice.  
  
Within minutes, Bruce Wayne was airlifted to Gotham General. The hospital staff assured the young assistant that his employer would be cared for with utmost privacy and confidentiality.  
  
"Oh, he's had trouble lately with a stalker, a middle-aged woman about this tall," Terry added, "she might use the name Hannah. Anyway, can you be sure to watch out fo her?"  
  
"Sure thing, Mr. McGinnis." Terry smiled. He exited the hospital, the sun's warm midafternoon rays casting long shadows on the ground. He wondered what he should do next. He could visit Selina Kyle, Devon Sinclair, or perhaps go find Craig and beat the living crap out of him. Yes, maybe I'll visit Craig first - Terry smiled darkly. It'll make me feel better. 


	7. What WERE Those Pictures of?

"I'm Batman. I don't kill. I wouldn't even if I was a normal guy," Terry growled as he raced toward Wayne Manor. "But damn if I'm not tempted to make an exception."  
  
He hoped Hannah and Craig would be there when he arrived; there was an interesting move he'd learned fighting Stalker that he was dying to show them up close and personal. Very personal. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when they weren't there, but he decided to take advantage of their absence to search their rooms.  
  
The first thing he found were pictures- the old-fashioned type, with negatives. He wondered about that for a moment, then guessed she'd stuck with the old technology either because it was familiar or because it was harder to trace. The subject matter was both what he expected and something he'd happily have gone the rest of his life without seeing. He gathered both pictures and negatives together, placing them on the dresser where he could easily grab them if he needed to make a quick exit.  
  
After finding the pictures the other evidence started piling up. Files, discs, even a diary filled with embarrassingly purple prose and incriminating details. What he couldn't find was what the bitch used on Bruce. He did find the Wayne Diamonds, though, and returned them to their proper place. When he got back to gather what he could, he noticed something odd: Hannah had three identical perfume bottles on the dresser. He knew he didn't understand women yet, but that just struck him as wrong. He grabbed his cel phone and made a call.  
  
"Max, this is gonna sound weird, but how many bottles of perfume do you have? Of the same scent, I mean."  
  
"Me? None. -Oh, wait, I do have some. I think. But women in general, then just one. Perfume can go bad, you know, so unless you've got one of those bluehairs who marinates in it she might not finish the first before the second turns."  
  
"So three bottles..."  
  
"Uh-uh. You onto something?"  
  
"I think so. Thanks. Bye"  
  
He hung up on her indignant squawk, grabbed the evidence- all the evidence- and headed for the Batcave. He dumped it on the table, deciding to secure the cave first. That took a while, as he used the old manual bolts; they couldn't be reprogrammed or reached from the other side. He then disabled the elevator and called up a certain program on the computer. One aspect of it gave him some trouble, but he eventually found a solution he liked.  
  
He dashed back upstairs through the one door he'd left open. he hadn't searched Craig's room and he didn't want to take a chance on letting the bastard get away. The decision was taken out of his hands; he heard their car pull up outside. He slipped into the nearest room- a closet, actually- and pulled the door almost closed. He waited, listening.  
  
"...guess I was too much for him," Hannah laughed. "Well, at least he signed the new will first. Now all we have to do is take care of the boy. Did you get anything useful from his girlfriend?"  
  
"How about a list of enemies, starting with her father and going all the way to Charlie Bigelow? Big Time would pay big money for a chance at his old friend Tiny, I hear."  
  
"It shouldn't be too hard."  
  
"That's not what you said before."  
  
"He's just a boy, and without Bruce backing him up he's at best only half as effective. He may be Batman, but he isn't the real Batman."  
  
Terry smirked. That crack had hurt coming from Grayson, but from her? He was looking forward to disillusioning her.  
  
"Not a real any kind of man," Craig snarked. "Maybe it's a good thing for Dana I came along. She really-"  
  
Terry got to use that move after all. He exploded from his hiding place, intent on shutting Craig's mouth in the most painful manner possible. Seconds later the other boy was a whimpering heap on the floor and Terry was turning to face Hannah. However, instead of taking her down, he found himself dodging a bullet. She prepared to fire again, but Ace tackled her. Terry ran for the library, only stopping at the door to whistle for the dog. He wasn't going to leave him behind.  
  
It was a mistake. Hannah's bullet caught him in the shoulder, knocking him back through the door. He managed to kick it shut anyway, Ace flying past him just in time. He picked himself up painfully and locked the door.  
  
"Old-fashioned camera, old-fashioned gun- does she even know what year this is?" Terry muttered. "And since a lobotomized chimp could pop that lock in less than thirty seconds, it should give her some trouble. Let's go, pooch."  
  
He bolted the last entrance to the Batcave behind him. As soon as he was in range of the computer he called, "Computer, initiate lockdown."  
  
He paused just long enough to make sure it did then headed for the first aid kit. He couldn't remove the bullet himself, but he could and did clean and bandage the wound. Doing it one-handed was difficult; he hoped it would be effective. It had to be.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
"Is this all the evidence?" Barbara Gordon looked at him suspiciously. He'd changed into the Batsuit, figuring if she couldn't see his face she wouldn't guess how much pain he was actually in. He'd told her Hannah had only winged him. Now he was wondering if she'd bought it at all.  
  
"I didn't get a chance to search Craig's room."  
  
"That's not what I asked."  
  
"There was a slight accident with the pictures. And the negatives."  
  
"Pictures?"  
  
He stayed silent.  
  
"...I see." Barbara glared down at what he'd brought. "Bruce will be furious at you for destroying evidence, you know."  
  
"Too damn bad."  
  
He didn't expect her to laugh at that, but she did.  
  
"Keep that up, kid, and I might start to like you."  
  
"Can't have that."  
  
She laughed again, then sobered abruptly.  
  
"You said she's been in the Batcave."  
  
"I locked it down. Only way in or out is through the hangar. The kill switch is pretty effectively disabled. Computer's down and the only way to get it back up is with a password she'll never guess."  
  
He was getting dizzy. He had to get out of there and rest for a few minutes.  
  
"Doesn't know how you think, does she?"  
  
"Not even close. Wouldn't help her anyway."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"She'd need to know how my dad thought. He was really into light opera- I couldn't help picking up a bit It's a word that 'teems with hidden meaning'. Never thought it'd be useful."  
  
Barbara nodded approvingly.  
  
"Good job, kid. I mean it."  
  
"Thanks, Commish. Now I'd better-"  
  
He turned as he spoke, took one step, and collapsed.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
"I've worked with Nightwing. I've worked with Batgirl. I can work with Devon Lydecker." Selina exchanged a glance with her Coon Cat Freya. "And if I keep saying it, I might even start to believe it."  
  
The doorbell rang; she answered it. Devon entered quietly, her eyes red.  
  
"You've seen the news."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Maybe we've been fighting the wrong person."  
  
"Hannah."  
  
Selina frowned. She didn't like Devon, she didn't want to sympathize with her, but she couldn't deny her rival seemed devastated. She decided to cut the preliminaries.  
  
"I'm going to take the bitch down. Want to help?" ******************************************************** 


	8. The Enemy of My Enemy

Part VIII:  'The Enemy of My Enemy'

By: Calico

            "Dammit!" Hannah stormed.  "I almost had him."  She tossed the handgun onto the large desk in Bruce's study, and then ran her fingers angrily through her frosted hair.  Craig waited patiently for her temper storm to pass.  "This is getting ridiculous!" she fumed.  "McGinnis has interfered for the last time."  She twirled on her son pointing a finger.  "Maybe you'd better pay another visit to his girlfriend."

            "Um, well, she kind of won't talk to me," he replied hesitantly, tugging on his earlobe.

            "And I wonder why that is?" she sneered at him.  Walking over she cuffed him upside his head.  "You're no better than your father.  What on earth were you thinking anyway?!" she growled.

            "Mom," he pleaded, "I…"

            "You weren't thinking, that's the point."  She waved a dismissive hand, her face tight and pinched as she began pacing the room.  "But you're going to rectify the situation, aren't you?  Find that girl, do whatever you need to do, but we need an insurance policy against McGinnis, or this entire thing is blown to pieces."  She began to seethe in earnest.  "They're not letting me anywhere near Bruce, on that little punk's orders, even though I managed to secure power of attorney from him before his incapacitation, but it will take weeks before I can legally put it into effect.  In the meantime, that boy could ruin everything."

            "I understand, mother."

            Opening her purse, she pulled out a smaller version of the perfume bottles Terry had taken, the last of their stash.  Handing it to Craig, she said, "Go then and don't disappoint me again."  She took a deep breath and her entire body relaxed.  With an angelic smile she said, "And I am going to start redecorating this old place, now that we're here to stay.  It really needs a feminine touch."

            Craig waited outside Hamilton Hill High School until he saw the petite, Asian beauty walking down the steps to the sidewalk.  She appeared to be alone.  He quickly leapt out of the car and caught up with her.  "Dana, can we talk?"

            "Oh!  Craig."  She stepped backwards with a worried expression.

            "I think we had a misunderstanding.  I was hoping we could go somewhere, and work it out."  He smiled and tried to step closer, to take her hand.

            "No, no," she said, shaking her head emphatically and stepping farther from his grasp.  "I really don't feel comfortable around you right now.  Please leave me alone."

            "But, Dana," he pleaded.  "Was it something I did or said?  I thought we had connected."  He lowered his voice.  "I know you wanted it too."

            She sucked in her breath, eyes widening in shock and inner pain.  Before she could respond, a voice called out from behind.  "Hey Dane, wait up!"  Both of them looked to see Max running down the steps.  She came to a sudden stop when she saw Craig.  "What are you doing here?" she asked sharply.

            "Hey, I don't want to cause any trouble, I just want to talk to Dana," Craig said easily.

            "Well, you're causing some trouble, so I'd suggest you leave," Max retorted, and stepped between them.

            He chuckled.  "I don't think this is any of your business."

            "Actually it is my business.  Terry and Dana are my friends.  I don't know what you have up your sleeve, but you're not doing anything to hurt them.  Now leave while you still can under your own power!"

            "You're going to make me?  You and what army?"  He laughed outright.  While his attention was diverted, Max stepped forward and grabbed a wrist.  Using his arm as leverage, she turned him around and frog-marched him back to his car, while he howled in pain the whole time.  "Let go of me!"

            With a final painful yank of his arm, she pushed him at the car, brushing her hands together as if removing a layer of dirt.  "Now don't come back!"  Returning to her friend's side she said, "Let's go, Dane, you don't have to worry about him anymore."  The two girls walked away, leaving Craig behind.

            With a flash of anger he slammed a fist onto the roof of his car.  "Slag it!" he cried out, knowing his mother would not be happy with this turn of events.  He dreaded her wrath more than anything else in the world.  He missed her soft, sweet voice and how she smoothed his hair back with her fingertips and when she called him a good boy, Momma's good boy.

            But those times had become fewer and farther between, coming to an almost complete stop once Aunt Devon had started making trouble.

            He growled in frustration.  This wouldn't even be necessary if it weren't for Devon.  Her return had been a family reunion from hell…

            "Bingo!" he cried out, snapping his fingers together.  He was going to make his mother proud of him again.

            Craig trotted up the steps and into the school, walking purposefully down the halls.  Hannah had once told him that the secret to blending into any situation is simply to act like you belong.  The few straggling students preparing for after-school activities merely glanced at him with little to no interest as he strode with complete confidence towards the main office.

            Outside the door to the office he heard muted voices.  Moving on a few feet away to a bulletin board, he acted as though he were engrossed in the announcements as the door opened and a slightly built man exited.  "Have a good evening, Alice," he called out and, briefcase in hand, walked past Craig to the nearest exit.

            Craig went into the office with his most charming smile.  The middle-aged woman at the front desk looked up with a polite smile.  "Yes, may I help you?" she inquired.

            "You most certainly can, Alice dear!" he said enthusiastically, maneuvering himself around the desk to her side.  She began to protest his proximity, but her mouth hung open in mute silence as he leaned down intimately, as if to give her a kiss.  Instead, he whispered, "I need some information, and I'm sure you're going to tell me everything I need to know."

            In a small, monotone voice, she replied, "I will tell you everything you need to know."

            "Wonderful!  Now, there is a student named Terry McGinnis…."

            Craig knocked on the door sharply.

            "Who is it?" the voice of a small child answered on the other side.

            "I'm a friend of Terry's.  Is he home?"

            The door opened slightly and a small blue eye peered out at him.  "Nah, Terry's never home."

            "Oh?  That's odd, he asked me to meet him here.  Hmmm."  Craig placed a finger on his lips in thought.  "You're Matt, right?"  The small head nodded.  "Is your mom home?"

            "Nope, she had to work."

            "So you're here all alone?"  Craig furrowed his brow in worry.  "That doesn't sound very safe."

            "Well I'm not a baby," Matt replied in a huff.  Then he shrugged.  "Jocelyn, the girl from downstairs, is s'pposed to sit with me, but she's late today."

            "Ah, that's a relief.  Listen, Big Guy, I'd really like to call Terry to find out where I'm supposed to meet him.  Do you think I could come in and use the phone?"

            "Not supposed to let strangers in," the boy replied warily.

            "An excellent policy my friend."  Craig nodded sagely.  "I wouldn't want you to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.  Maybe Terry will introduce us one day, and we won't be strangers anymore."  He smiled broadly.

            "Fat chance, Terry's never around anymore."

            "Heh," Craig replied.  The boy had allowed the door to open wider and he could see one small hand was clutching something.  "Say, is that a Batman figure?" he asked pointing at it.

            Matt brought the toy up for closer inspection.  "Yep!  It's a special edition, comes with a Blight doll too."

            "Wow!  That's really schway.  I used to have the entire JLU series, but my mom made me throw all mine away.  Batman is cool, but Flash was my favorite."

            Matt nodded quickly, "Yeah, he's good, but Green Lantern is the best.  I have the whole set of them." 

            "No kidding!  I'd like to see 'em sometime, well, you know, after Terry introduces us," Craig laughed.

            Matt mulled it over in his mind for a few seconds and then pushed the door wide open.  "Come on in."

            "Cool."  Craig walked in and closed the door behind him.  "So who's the best GL?"

            "Well Kyle was good, and I like Kangar Ro, but my absolute favorite is John Stewart, he got the job done."

            "Yes, yes he did," Craig said quietly and followed the boy into his room.

            Mary McGinnis sighed as she unlocked the door and lugged the two bags of groceries into her apartment.  It was completely dark.  "Hello?" she called out.  "Matty?  Are you here?  Jocelyn?"

            A light suddenly blazed next to the couch where a strange man was sitting.  Matt was lying beside him with his head on the man's leg.  "I sent Jocelyn home," the man told her with an ingratiating smile.

            "Who are you?" she demanded.

            "Don't worry, I'm a friend of Terry's," he explained as her tense face regarded him.  "Matty and I were playing with his toys and the poor guy just got worn out," he said, rising up from the couch.  "Here, let me help you with those, ma'am."

            Taking the bags from her, he turned and walked into the kitchen.  Mary followed, rubbing her forehead.  "I don't understand.  Why are you here?"

            "I have some business to take care of with your son.  And he's making it a bit difficult."  Craig set the bags on the counter and turned, while pulling a small canister from his pocket.  "But you and Matt are going to make things much easier."  He smiled as he sprayed her in the face.  Her eyes rolled back into her head and she sank to the floor.  "Much, much easier."

            Gathering up the two bodies, he left behind a note: "If you want to see your family again, you'll do exactly as you're told."

            "Do you really think it was wise bringing them here?" Hannah asked harshly as they stood outside one of Wayne Manor's many guest rooms.

            Craig shrugged.  "They're bound and gagged and blindfolded.  They won't have any idea where they are.  And we've changed the locks, so he's not getting back in here to find them anyway.  It's all good, Mom."  Craig smiled proudly, hoping she would agree, but before she could respond the phone rang.

            He followed her into the library, where she picked up the phone, answering with pride of ownership, "Wayne Manor…Yes, this is Hannah…My, my Ms. Kyle, this is a surprise…Really?  That is an intriguing offer, of course I'd like to hear more…I'll be there in an hour."  She hung up with a smug smile.  "It seems, Devon has visited our little Catwoman again and she's willing to make a deal.  Luckily for us she hates my sister as much as I do.  You know the old saying, 'The enemy of my enemy is my ally.'  This could just be the break we need."

            "I don't know, Mom, this sounds like a bad idea.  I think it could be a trap."

            She whirled on him and boxed his ear with a lightening strike.  "That's why you don't think."  He rubbed his ear morosely as she stalked off, grabbing her purse and coat.  "Don't wait up," she called over her shoulder.


	9. New Perspective

What the....?  
  
Barbara Gordon's thoughts came to a jumbled halt as she watched Terry, in the guise of Batman, drop to her office floor.  
  
She shook herself into action when the crumpled heap of black remained unmoved where he fell. Knees creaking painfully, Barbara knelt down beside him.  
  
"Terry... come on kid." She attempted to straighten the awkwardly bent form. He moaned and flinched when her helping hands contacted the injured shoulder. "You're acting unusually wimpy for a hero who claims he's dealing with a simple flesh wound. Care to elaborate on the true extent of the injury?"  
  
Terry let out another soft moan in answer, his head lolling weakly to one side.  
  
"Guess not." Barb sighed resignedly and proceeded to remove his cowl.  
  
A palm against the flushed face told her he was burning with fever. She gritted her teeth angrily and unlatched the sophisticated fasteners that held the suit together, not surprised to see fresh blood soaking through the bandage Terry had managed to get in place before coming to see her.  
  
"Dammit kid..." she ground out in frustration, long experience giving her a good idea what Terry's body was dealing with. "The bullet's still in there isn't it?"  
  
Her mind worked furiously for a solution to this problem. She had a wistful memory of Dr. Leslie always coming to their rescue in the old days when any of them got into a fix like this. Unfortunately that option did not exist today. Terry needed a hospital to remove the bullet and deal with the infection that had set in. And from the way he looked right now, he'd need help getting there.  
  
How to get him there and come up with a valid excuse as to why he had been shot would be the toughest parts to deal with. Obviously the batsuit would have to come off......  
  
Sam's dry-cleaning! It was still hanging in the office closet. Her husband and Terry had somewhat similar body size. The pants and shirt should fit the younger man well enough to get by. Okay, one problem solved.  
  
Now how would she explain Terry's presence in her office when her receptionist never saw him come in? He had arrived through her tenth story office window as Batman.  
  
Simple. Send him off on an errand and claim Terry had come while he was out. If anyone bothered to check the security vids, the cover was blown, but there was no reason why they should.  
  
Kneejoints squealing in silent protest Barbara stood and stiffly walked to her desk. Touching an intercom button, she said in a calm voice,  
  
"Emmans?" The reply came a second later.  
  
"Yes Commissioner?"  
  
"I'd like you to go down to the records vault and bring up the files on the A.P. Donner murder investigation."  
  
"Sure thing Commissioner. And I won't even ask why, when that very same information is available at the mere touch of your fingertips."  
  
Barbara grinned, but kept her tone formal. "Thank you for your astute observation Mr. Emmans. Bring them in as soon as you return."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
That may buy them ten minutes. Terry began to stir as she returned with Sam's clothes and towels from the washroom. She helped his groggy struggle to sit.  
  
"Easy Terry."  
  
"Commish?" He eyed her in bleary confusion. "What happened?"  
  
"You were taking a nap on my floor and just woke up. Here- you need to put these clothes on."  
  
"Wha...?" Terry squinted, trying to focus. "Wh... those aren't mine."  
  
"I know," She replied patiently, " But you can't wear, you-know-what, to the hospital."  
  
"Hospital... ? No I... I have to get back to the cave. Hannah and Craig-- "  
  
"Will sit tight while you're getting taken care of. Now, let's get that suit off."  
  
"But Bruce- "  
  
"Will be more than a little upset if he finds out you've been ignoring a bullet wound. I'm not sure which would kill you first."  
  
"I'm o- " Sucking in a pained breath as Barb pressed a towel against the bleeding wound, he finished with a whispered. " ...kay."  
  
"Right" Barb grimaced sympathy at his obvious pain. "And Blight is a wonderful, caring human being too. Now, work with me here before you pass out again."  
  
************  
  
Matt was angry. That Craig had turned out to be a jerk!  
  
How he wished he had Green Lantern's ring. If he did he would make a giant hammer and bop that guy into outer space next time he saw him! But he couldn't see anything with the blindfold over his eyes. And he couldn't get that off until his hands got loose.  
  
Frustrated tears came as his small hands furiously struggled to free themselves from the strong, sticky duct tape wrapped around them. A sob was cut short by the gag taking up space in his mouth.  
  
Where was he? Why had Terry's friend done this to him? What was going to happen?  
  
A soft sound nearby caught his attention. He stopped and listened carefully. There it was again. Kind of a moan.... sounded familiar, like.... MOM!  
  
"Ummm... mm... mm....."  
  
No good! He couldn't call out to her with his mouth stuffed like this. But wait... why didn't she talk to him if she was here? Why was she moaning? Did that creepy Craig hurt her?  
  
If he did he was going to be in big trouble! Even if he was too little to do much, once Terry found out, his brother would pound Craig into minced meat! (He didn't know what minced meat was, but his Mom always yelled that and punched her fist into her hand when she watched vid-wrestling.) But he couldn't tell Terry anything unless he got free.  
  
Matt renewed his struggles, twisting and pulling his hands to stretch or rip the tape. Gradually it gave way, his wrists parting. He finished tearing the tape off, then yanked the gag from his mouth and pushed the blindfold up and off his head.  
  
A quick twist of his head showed the sight of his mother, bound and curled on a bed beside the one he was on.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
She did not respond to his excited, worried call. He fumbled with the knot of the rope that confined his ankles together. With that loosened, he kicked the strands away and scrambled over to his mother. He shook her shoulder.  
  
"Mom? Mom, can you hear me?"  
  
Still no sound or movement from her and Matt hurridly freed her of all the bindings. After all his efforts, his mother's eyes remained closed, her body relaxed in sleep. Fighting tears, he sat beside her and gazed around the room, wondering where they were.  
  
Curiosity compelled him to a window. He looked out and gaped in awe as the view showed a sweeping vista of steep cliffs. Far below, fierce waves of Gotham's river churning against the rocky base.  
  
He'd seen that view before. Once, when Terry took him to Mr. Wayne's mansion for a visit. It scared him then and it still did now. He hurried back to his mother. So is that where they were? In Mr. Wayne's mansion? But why? He had to find a phone and call Terry. Terry would know.  
  
Matt jumped down from the bed, went to the door and cautiously opened it. Stepping out into the dark hallway he headed to his left. Coming upon the next door he tried turning the knob. It was locked. Going to the next one, he finds that locked too. At the end of the hallway he found himself standing at the top of a sweeping staircase.  
  
Suddenly something appeared in the shadowed darkness at the bottom of the stairs. Eyes going wide, Matt stared in horror as a huge creature started coming up towards him. He backed away, gaze riveted on the indistinct blob of darkness closing in, a scream stuck in his throat.  
  
Paralyzed by fright, Matt could only close his eyes and stand still while it came closer and closer.....  
  
Something rough and sloppy brushed across his face, causing Matt to expel a gush of pent-up air from his lungs. A cold, wet nose was suddenly nuzzling against his chest and armpit. Gentle snuffling sounds and soft whines combined to make Matt giddy with relief. He smiled and grabbed at the broad, furry head.  
  
"Ace!"  
  
Now he was sure where he was. Mr. Wayne might be kind of scary, but his dog was awesome. A distant, new sound made Matt stop his enthusiastic fondling of the happy dog. Something told him danger was approaching, not Mr. Wayne or Terry who would be expected to be here. An encouraging command for Ace to follow and in moments they were both back in the bedroom where his Mom slept.  
  
Matt bade Ace to stay beside the bed and crawled up protectively beside his mother. Sound of unhurried footsteps came louder and louder until they stopped outside the closed door. The knob turned. The door opened. In stepped....  
  
Creepy Craig! Matt huddled closer against his mother and yelled a simple command.  
  
"Get'em Ace!"  
  
With a snarl, the big dog leaped over the bed, knocking a surprised Craig to the ground. Craig yelled, threw his hands up in defense and made a frantic leaping dive for the exit.  
  
He clawed his way desperately to the door, while the big dog tore at his pant leg, pulling and ripping and regrabbing again. Sharp teeth sank into the muscle of his calf and he screamed, kicking back with his other leg. A satisfying thud and startled yip gave Craig a momentary feeling of triumph. Heart thumping wildly he finished his plunge out the bedroom door, ramming it shut with such force that the whole wall vibrated, its sound echoing down the length of the mansion hall.  
  
Grimacing in pain and breathing heavily, Craig pulled himself to a stand. A shaky hand dug the room key from his pocket and locked the door. He sagged against it for a moment, listening to growls and furious scratching sounds from the other side.  
  
The door knob rattled, small fists pounded and Matt's muffled child voice yelled,  
  
"Hey! Not fair! You gotta let us outta here!"  
  
Thinking it safe to ignore his prisoners for the time being, Craig limped painfully to the nearest bathroom to tend his leg. A trail of blood marked his path. He almost passed out at the sight of the deep, jagged wound. Mustering courage and will-power he sloppily wrapped the leg in layers of gauze from the vanity medical kit and decided to go to the nearest emergency room for medical attention.  
  
He could already feel the ringing in his ears from the slap his mother would give him if she found out about this. Maybe if he hurried he could get back before she came home from her meeting-- if she came back. He still believed she was walking into a trap.   
A two hour delay in the hospital emergency waiting room, twenty minutes stewing in the examination room for the doctor to show up and another thirty before the wound was cleaned and stitched up and Craig was ready to explode in frustration. This was all McGinnis' fault! If it weren't for that interfering do-gooder, his mother wouldn't be so upset with him and he wouldn't have to be dealing with all this nonsense.  
  
He grumbled as he made his way to the exit. A babble of voices at the desk caught his attention. One of the voices sounded familiar. Turning, he quickly saw the owner of that voice was none other than that annoying Maxine Gibson. She was talking to an old, silver-haired woman whose tone held an abundance of authority. Craig paused and tuned his hearing to what they were saying.  
  
He strained to connect jumbled words. "... out of surgery... doing okay... antibiotics for infection... room 415... fool-headed McGinnis... taking chances...."  
  
So, McGinnis was hurt. Apparently his mother was a better shot than she realized. But he wasn't dead. Too bad. Wonder if there was anything he could do to change that? Maybe a little look-see on our hero might be worth the effort.  
  
It was hard to be unobtrusive with a limp, but Craig did his best. The targeted room loomed into view. He ducked behind a corner as the door opened and a nurse exited, a tray balanced in one hand. Stealthily he approached the door and peeked inside the room. No telltale sounds or sight of anyone moving around, so he slipped inside.  
  
An evil grin widened his face at sight of McGinnis lying helpless and sedated on the bed. Oh, this was too good to be true! His vision caught sight of an extra pillow sitting on the chair beside the bed. It was all Craig could do to keep from laughing out loud in triumph. The murder weapon, conveniently located near the soon-to-be victim. How much easier could this get?!  
  
With a furtive glance around the room, he walked to the bed, picked up the standard sized pillow and slowly lowered it over McGinnis' pale face. 


	10. Nik Nak Kitty Kat

**Love Bites**  
  
**Author: **Jillybean  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
** Nik Nak Kitty Kat**  
  
Craig's splayed fingers were making an imprint on the pillow as he pushed it down. The weak body below him was trying to struggle, but still too drugged to even comprehend the danger.  
  
Craig let out a small chuckle, this was so easy! And then Selina Kyle brought the edge of her palm down onto his neck with a speed a veracity to ensure Craig never saw it coming.  
"Kid! Kid!" Selina cried, flinging the pillow from the bed and shaking Terry roughly. "Jesus, kid, wake up!" She kicked Craig under the bed and stepped backwards in relief when Terry took a deep, shaky breath.   
  
"Oh - man. Ow. What happened here?" Terry asked, sitting up slowly. Selina pushed him back down.  
"I don't have much time, I need to be at the plaza in like twenty minutes."  
"Why am I here?" Terry asked, looking around the hospital dazedly.  
"Think about it kid!" Selina snapped at him. Terry's fuzzy blue eyes met hers and he blinked slowly.  
"I was shot." He remembered. One hand moved to run through his hair but was snagged by the IV drip. He grimaced and pulled it out, shaking his hand. "Selina? How - why . . ."  
"Oh I'm not stupid. You, on the other hand, take after Bruce wonderfully. He's here, isn't he?"  
"Uh -"  
"In the private wing? To get away from Hannah? Think boy!"  
"Okay! Okay! I was shot, remember?" He exclaimed, batting her away. Selina folded her arms.  
"Listen to me good kid. I'm are meeting Hannah in -" Selina checked her watch, "fifteen- minutes. Only Hannah thinks I'm going to give her the locket. I'll delay her for as long as I can, hopefully she'll bring her son too."  
"I still don't-"  
"Just listen! Do you know how Hannah was manipulating Bruce? Pheromones. How many people do you know that secrete that kind of pheromone?"  
"Poison Ivy."  
"You get a a point. Now to get a special Gold Star, what do you think Ivy is expecting in return for all her help in Hannah's little scheme."  
"Money."  
"The kid's a genius. Now. Inside Devon's locket there is a key, the long and short of it is that the key will prove Devon's inheritance. Without the money to pay Poison Ivy back, Poison Ivy may just come after Hannah, favour or no favour. That'd work out well for all of us. You need to go to Bruce, he's been looking after that locket for a very long time now. He doesn't know it, but he has. Then you have to make sure that the locket gets to Devon. She'll be at my apartment while I distract Hannah."  
"There's not exactly a big time frame here. And where exactly is the locket?"  
"The only piece of memorabilia Bruce keeps of me kiddo."  
  
"I am so confused."  
"You'll get used to it." Selina nodded to him and left.  
  
***  
  
Max hesitated at the door to Terry's apartment, Mary was very security conscious, so for the door to be slightly ajar was definitely an indicator that something was wrong.  
She pushed it aside gently and stepped over the threshold, looking around.  
"Matt? Ms McGinnis?" She called worriedly, reaching the table - and seeing the note that was sticking to it. -_ If you want to see your family again, you'll do exactly as you're told_  
  
"Oh . . . shit." Max raced through the rooms, checking each one frantically. Sure enough, no family. She hesitated, her hand half way to her mouth in fear. Who to call? Who was there now that Terry was out of it?  
It was only her now. She was Matt and Mary's only hope. And she was pretty sure she knew where Hannah would hold them.  
  
She bounded back down the steps and into her car, revving the engine and taking off in the direction of Wayne Manor.  
  
***  
  
Terry slipped into Bruce's room with little difficulty. Then again, he doubted that the paltry guard outside was used to patients using all their Batman skill to get past them.  
  
"Terry?" Bruce asked carefully, sitting up when he the door slid open. Terry grinned and headed towards him.  
"I can see what you saw in Selina Kyle." He said with a wink. Bruce glowered. Terry relayed Selina's information to him.  
  
"So what do you own that used to be Catwomans?" Terry asked, he had been getting changed as he spoke. Bruce was thinking deeply.  
"I'm not sure. I don't think I own anything of Selina's . . ." He looked up at Batman before him and raised an eyebrow. "Unless she's thinking of the - but no . . ." He shook his head disbelievingly.  
"Bruce, I'm running out of time. You gotta tell me."  
"There's a painting on the fifth floor, it's modern art? The paint's about an inch thick in some places?"  
"The one with all the black and purple?"  
"That's it. When Catwoman tried to steal it from a gallery we discovered our secret identities . . . it's some artists interpretation of Catwoman and Batman."  
"Then that will be what she means. Ok I'm outta here. By tomorrow - no more Hannah!" He said to Bruce with a grin, sliding a window open and leaping out into the air.  
  
Bruce looked out the window, watching Batman slide through the sky.  
  
"Bruce!" A voice shouted from the door. He turned, scowling at Barbara as she ran in. "Bruce - I just got a phone call from a young woman named Max Gibson - you don't know her, do you?" She asked, her voice heavy with dread. Bruce stared at her through the shadows and his own rising desperation.  
"Yes."  
"Oh no. Where's Terry?" She asked, shaking off the guards that were trying to drag her from the room. "Fuck off I'm Commissioner Gordon!" She snarled at them.   
"Terry's kinda busy right now." Bruce hissed.  
"Max told me she'd found a ransom note directed at him, for his family. She said if you confirmed her name then I had to send reinforcements to the manor."  
Bruce watched on in pain as Barbara left his room as fast as she could go.  
  
***  
  
Gotham's plaza was nearly empty by the time Selina got there, but sitting in a single elitist coffee shop was Hannah, sipping on a latte. _As if it would do _that _figure any good_. Selina thought maliciously. She glanced at her watch and then back at Hannah's drawn face._ Hurry up kid_.  
  
"A mocha, extra cream." Selina told the adorable waiter and sat down opposite Hannah. Her old nemesis pouted angrily.  
"You haven't brought it, have you?"   
"I'm curious." Selina said, smiling thanks to the young man who brought her coffee. "Why do you want it?"  
"My mother gave it to me." Hannah remarked sarcastically.  
"Really? Because I know it's really Devon's. I may require a price."  
"You too!" Hannah shrieked, leaping to her feet, spilling the table and coffee's everywhere. Selina had to keep from purring.  
  
"You crime women are all the same!" Hannah exclaimed, oblivious of the crowd around her as she danced around in rage. "Money! It's all money!" She kicked the wrought iron table and screamed with mingled pain as she stubbed her foot.  
  
Selina bit her lip. Hard.  
  
Hannah advance menacingly. One finger pointed at Selina.  
"Do you know how much Poison Ivy has done me for?" She growled, all her cultured eloquence had fled her. Selina raised a quivering eyebrow.  
"It wasn't bad enough I had to do that bloody humiliating favour for her. I even had to dress in tights! But no! She wants money too! You're pathetic! All of you!" She squeaked in a most un-ladylike manner when to GCPD officers clamped their hands on her arms.  
  
"What is going on here!" She shrieked, kicking frantically. Selina stood gracefully and followed her to the van.  
"Disturbing the peace, ma'am." Said one officer.  
"Don't pawn me off with that!" Hannah roared, totally hysterical now. Totally senseless. "I know it was that brat of a son of mine wasn't it! He's ruined things somehow, hasn't he! That brat! He's done it this time! I knew taking the McGinnis kid was a mistake!"  
  
Selina paled, suddenly worried for Bruce's new assistant. She liked the kid. God she hoped nothing had happened to him  
  
***  
  
Even as Selina thought it, Max had drawn up outside the manor. She walked towards the big doors and knocked one, trying to sound timid, even though she was quivering with rage.  
  
Craig used the security camera's to check the door, when he saw Max he grimaced. What the Hell did she want? Would it look more suspicious if he opened it? Or if he didn't?  
  
Carefully he limped to the door and cracked it open.  
  
"Oh Craig!" He barely had a chance to register that it was in fact Max before she had flung herself at him, bringing both of them onto the floor.   
"Oomph!" Craig gasped a little desperately as he hit the floor hard. Max straddled him, her big eyes looking distraught.  
"Oh Craig, I just have to know." She whimpered. "Was it only Dana? Did I not tempt you either? Why not!" She cried, leaning closer. "Craig I love you too! All my meanness, it was all an act - don't you see! I was afraid!"  
  
_Damn these pheromones work better than I thought._ Craig thought as he managed to pull her to her feet and into his protective embrace.  
_Sucker. _Was Max's thought.  
  



	11. Gathering of Forces

**Author: **Katfairy  
  
**Jillybeans Note**: Sorry about the bad formatting, my fault :(  
  
**Gathering of Forces **  
  
******************************************************  
  
Bruce opened the door slowly, peering out through the crack. The two guards were talking together, watching the hall but not his door. He eased his way out then slipped into the next room. Someone would be along to check on him soon and he'd be able to slip out in the ensuing confusion.   
He just hoped he'd be in time.  
  
"Been a while since a handsome young man snuck into my room."  
  
He froze. Turning slowly, he saw a fragile-looking lady with snow-white hair lying in bed, grinning at him.  
  
"Young?" he couldn't help asking.  
  
"Honey, I'm 106 years old. You're, what, eighty? To me that's young. And I can tell you're in trouble so what can I do to help?"  
  
"I'm not sure-"  
  
"Be sure. Hell, kid, what have you got to lose?"  
  
"Want a list?" he snapped. He'd forgotten how annoying it was being called "kid".  
  
"I'm not going anywhere." She eyed him for a moment. "But I bet you should be. So, seriously, what do you need? I've got family in this place and they'll do what Miss Sylvia tells them."  
  
"I need to get out."  
  
"Life or death?"  
  
"Literally."  
  
"Need a disguise?"  
  
"Probably, but-"  
  
"Hush, I'm thinking. Geez, where's Batman when you need him?" He decided not to answer that. "Hah! Got it!"  
  
"I can hardly wait," Bruce grumbled. He couldn't believe he was even half-contemplating listening to her; on the other hand, if she really had come up with something he'd be a fool to pass it up. It wasn't like his own idea was that great.  
  
"Hush, you," she ordered, picking up the phone. "My great-grandson works here. A nice Jewish boy- a doctor! Thank god for stereotypes- he's bound to have a spare- oh, Jake, dear, hello. Could you come up here, please? And you do have a spare yarmulke, right? -I thought so. Bring it. ... Jacob Daniel Leventhal, are you arguing with your great-grandmother? You bring it and yourself up here right now and no more backtalk!" She hung up the phone sharply, then giggled. Bruce shook his head. This was too easy. It couldn't work. But... he knew from experience the best disguises were often the simplest. Like a pair of glasses and a different hairstyle- that one had fooled an experienced investigative reporter for years.  
  
"Miss Sylvia, what are you up t- oh, shit," the man who walked through the door choked. "You're Bruce Wayne. And I'm screwed. You're as bad as your assistant- no wonder half the town thinks he's your kid."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It's just a rumor," Dr. Leventhal sighed as he dug a comb, hair-clips, and a green-and-grey crocheted yarmulke out of his pockets.  
  
"No, about being as bad as Terry."  
  
"Both of you should be in bed recuperating, but nooooo, you're up and running around trying to get yourselves killed. This is about your stalker, isn't it?"  
  
"A stalker?" Miss Sylvia's violet eyes widened.  
  
"You mean there's something in this hospital you don't know? You're slipping, Miss Sylvia. At any rate, I'm surprised the boy can stand, considering what Daria- Dr. Barnes- told me."  
  
"Which was?"  
  
Dr. Leventhal hesitated, but twin glares from the two older people prodded him on. "He'd been shot. Not with a laser, with a bullet. By the time he let himself get dragged in he'd already developed an infection. He's on pain-killers, antibiotics, and probably some other stuff, you'd have to ask Daria- saying he's got a diminished capacity is like saying the Joker needed a tan!"  
  
Bruce frowned again. He'd known Terry was hurt, but he hadn't realized it was that serious.  
"Then I definitely have to get out of here."  
  
"Not without me, you don't," Dr. Leventhal sighed.  
  
"Out of the question."  
  
"You're going after McGinnis, right? And you both need medical supervision right now."  
  
"Forget it."  
  
"I have a car."  
  
A commotion erupted next door; they'd finally noticed Bruce was gone.  
  
"All right. But if I tell you to do something, you do it immediately- no questions asked."  
  
"Done and done. Back in a sec." Dr. Leventhal grinned and slipped out of the room, returning in less than a minute with an oversized bathrobe. In the short time he was gone Bruce had combed his hair into a different style and pinned on the yarmulke. He donned the bathrobe, rather impressed that the doctor had managed to find one that much too big for him. That done, he slipped into the persona of a pleasant, slightly befuddled old gentleman. Miss Sylvia applauded softly.   
  
"Oh, you're good, honey," she chortled. "Now you be sure and come back and tell me how it all worked out. And bring that assistant of yours, too."  
  
Bruce, staying in character, sent her an affable smile in return. She laughed again and waved them away. They made the elevator without incident, skirting the commotion next door. As soon as they were safely away, Bruce gave Dr. Leventhal a sharp look.  
  
"So what was your other reason for helping?"  
  
"Self-preservation. See, I know who your assistant's parents were and heredity can be a stone bitch. I was at MIT a few years behind them; people were still talking about Scary Mary and Mad McGinnis. I am not pissing off the son of the pair who gift-wrapped Kresge! Not to mention what they did with the dinosaur..."  
  
Bruce almost smiled, feeling a little bit less worried. He'd never thought of Mary McGinnis as a prankster, but anyone who could gain that level of respect at MIT was definitely a force to be reckoned with. He had a feeling his job has just gotten much easier- either that or a hell of a lot more complicated.  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
"Matty, hon, if I ever catch you trying to do what I'm about to do there will be no video games for a month- and I'll tell Mr. Wayne." Mary knew that would keep her hyper-active younger son in line. She just hoped Mr. Wayne never learned she used him as the Ultimate Threat. Terry had almost laughed himself sick the first time he'd caught her at it, but it worked. Still, she didn't want to hurt that nice old man's feelings.  
  
That boy, on the other hand...  
  
"_-an engineer, of course,   
Was the only one who noticed  
That Godiva rode a horse_," Mary sang softly to herself as she worked. The song was practically her alma mater and she had an unconscious tendency to sing it when she was hacking. This promised to be one of her better efforts; that little shit was going to learn why you didn't fuck with the Hacking Queen of Random Hall.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Matt watched his mother set to work with a reverence bordering on awe. He hadn't seen her this mad since the time Mr. Tan gave Terry a black eye. He grinned evilly; Mom on the rampage was even schwayer than having a Green Lantern ring.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Selina ran for her car, digging her phone out of her bag as she went. She rolled her as as she passed the cops who were supposedly arresting Hannah, now sitting on a bench sporting dopey grins. There were times when she sympathized with Ivy's views on men.  
  
"Devon? New plan. Meet me at Wayne Manor. Now."  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Dana raced toward Wayne Manor. It was time she and Craig had a good long talk, and if she didn't like the answers she got he was going to be one sorry son of a bitch.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Terry sat in the Batmobile, more grateful than he'd ever been for the autopilot. And the drugs. Generally he hated being on medication but at the moment he knew it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing into a sniveling puddle of pain. Still all he had to do was find the locket and get it to Selina. And maybe if he was really lucky he'd get another chance to deck Craig.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Max stood over Craig's twitching form, smirking. The stun gun to the nuts was a nice touch, she thought. Picking up his ankles, she dragged him to a closet and locked him in.  
  
"Can't leave you lying there, can I? You clash with the rug. Now to find Terry's family."  
  
She decided to start at the top of the house and work her way down. It was a good call; as she walked through the upstairs hall she could hear singing, so loud and off-key it had to be deliberate.  
  
"Bingo," she said and reached for the doorknob.  
  



	12. Showdown at Wayne Manor

**Love Bites **  
Chapter 12 by Smitty

* * *

**Showdown at Wayne Manor **

Selina Kyle floored it all the way up the twisting driveway to Wayne Manor. It was scarcely the first time she'd made the drive, but the last excursion had been a good forty years past. Last time, she'd been going for the promise of a romantic dinner. This time it was a little more important. 

* * *

Max ran toward the source of the off-key singing and found a locked door. She grabbed the knob, rattling it around to make sure it was tight. 

"Mrs. McG!" she called into the old-fashioned keyhole. "Matty!" 

"Max! Mom, It's Max!" she heard a young voice call from inside the room. A pattering of sneakered feet and something crashed against the door. A hearty "woof!" joined him and a heavier body crashed against the door, too. 

"Max? Maxine Gibson?" Mary McGinnis' voice sounded faint from Max's side of the door. 

"Right here, Mrs. McG," Max called back. "I'm busting you out of this joint. Stand back, Matty. Take Ace with you." 

Max waited until she heard Matt and Ace pull back from the door, then gazed firmly at the lock and took a deep breath. "Alrighty," she said to herself. "You're going down." She pulled her leg up and gave the door her best karate kick. "Ow!" 

"Max! Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?" Mary's voice sounded closer this time; clearer. 

"Only my pride," Max grumbled. "Let me see if I can find the key. There's gotta be a way to take down this door." 

"Creepy Craig locked us in!" Matt protested, completely put out. 

"Oh, duh! I'll be right back! Don't go ANYwhere!" Max commanded them, turning on her heel and racing away. 

Inside the room, Matt turned and looked at his mother, who was cackling gleefully over whatever was on her screen. "Where were we gonna go?" he asked. 

* * *

The Batmobile deposited Terry in the Cave, still weak and dizzy. He staggered up the stairs, not even bothering to change. He had to get that picture; he had to get to the fifth floor. He ran through the main hall toward the spiral staircase and staggered to a halt when he saw Max vault the railing four feet from the bottom. 

"Max! What are you--" he growled, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder and the haze surrounding his brain. 

"Terry! You're hurt!" 

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?" 

"It's Craig. He kidnapped your Mom and Matty. Terry, he *knows* you're--" 

"I know! Where are Mom and Matt?" 

"Upstairs, they're fine. I've got Craig stunned in the closet. I need to search him for the key." 

"Ok." Terry paused, wanting desperately to go after his family but knowing that right now the locket was more important and Max was perfectly capable of springing his mother and brother. "I've got to get to the fifth floor. Get them out of here. Be careful." 

"You got it," Max assured him, making for the closet. 

Terry ran for the fifth floor, breathing raggedly by the second turn of the staircase. He knew that painting, had never understood why Bruce, with his discriminating taste, would ever spend money on such a thing. Had never understood until now. 

Max ran for the closet, hauling it open to find Craig still unconscious. She searched his pockets until her fingers closed around the flat, old-fashioned key. She pulled it out and ran for the staircase again, key clutched tightly in her hand. 

She never noticed that she forgot to lock the closet door again. 

* * *

Selina pulled up in front of Wayne Manor and leapt from her car like a young woman, barely pausing to twist the ignition off. A second car pulled up behind her and she turned her head to see Hannah running at her. She just managed to get her hands up as the other woman leapt for her throat.

Hannah hit her heavily but years on the rooftops had given Selina a fighting instinct no society girl was born to. She grabbed and twisted away, her body creaking as she sidestepped Hannah's assault. She ran for the mansion, knowing there were things inside she could use as weapons. Behind her, she heard Hannah get to her feet and pursue. She slipped through the bars of the main gate easily--good thing she'd kept up with her figure, she reminded herself, and made for the front door. Hannah, scrawny bitch that she was, ducked through just as easily and caught her around the upper arms as Selina reached the door. Selina jabbed back with her elbow, catching Hannah in rib cage. The other woman's grip was broken and Selina managed to wrestle the door open. Hannah, no more than half a step back, pushed through with her and they both tumbled into the entryway. 

"Think you can take me, do you?" Selina taunted, running around a fainting couch and grabbing an old lamp from its place. She dropped and swept at Hannah's lower legs. Hannah, though not nearly as quick and agile as Selina was even now, managed to avoid the blow by diving straight onto Selina. The former Catwoman gasped as she and Hannah tumbled to the marble floor, rolling against an open closet door. 

* * *

Terry was puffing harshly as he reached the fifth floor. Down the hall, on the left, yes, that picture. He leaned against the wall for a moment to catch his breath, then turned to the task of removing the canvas from the wall. It was hung over his head and it took him more than one try to unhook it from its hanging and bring it to the floor with him. He ran his hands over the paint, paying special attention to the places where it was thick. Three places and it looked like he's have to excavate all three. He popped the claws in his gauntlet when he heard an odd scraping noise. A quick check upward revealed that protective casings were sliding in front of the remaining pictures, one even covering the empty space where this one once hung. Terry turned his face to the ceiling just as water started to spray from hidden sprinklers. 

The security system! Somehow, someone--and Terry thought he knew who--had activated the fire alarm. The newest paint on the picture, a purple splotch near the bottom right hand corner started oozing away, a tiny bit of gold gleaming through the color. 

Scary Mary had done it again. 

* * *

"I've got the key," Max called, dropping to her knees and thrusting it into the lock. She blinked and ducked as sprinklers let loose over her head. "Whoa, what's up with the shower?" she wondered, releasing the tumblers and yanking the door open. 

"That was me," Mary announced, joining Max in the hallway with Matt on her shoulders. Ace bounded out of the room after her, barking and bouncing around them, obviously looking for revenge on Craig. "The police and fire departments are on their way. And I may have sent a message to the Gotham Gazette, too." She shrugged innocently. 

"In that case," Max said, already headed for the stairs, "we need to blow this popsicle stand." 

* * *

Bruce checked his watch for the four hundred and twelfth time since he and Dr. Leventhal had taken off in the good doctor's ratty old Volvo. 

"Doesn't this thing have any pickup?" he griped as Jake navigated up the twisted road. 

"It's a Volvo," the other man explained apologetically. "Reliable, not fast." 

"Hmph." Bruce frowned as they came within view of the main gates. Three cars were parked out front and the gates were blinking the red lights that indicated a security breach. "What's going on now?" 

* * *

Terry had managed to extract the locket from the paint and rubbed it against his costume in an effort to dry it off enough to crack it open. It was stubborn, the catch rusty from years of being buried under layers of paint and from the pouring water. He finally managed to release it, a small key falling into his hand. 

"That belongs to my mother!" 

Terry turned and barely managed to duck Craig's clumsy tackle. He straightened up, head instantly swimming with medication and blood loss. "This is bad," he muttered to himself, dancing back awkwardly from Craig's wet, ham-fisted blows. 

"Hey buster." 

Both boys stopped and looked up at the slight Asian girl standing in front of them, her face stormy. Terry recognized that look. That look was a patented Dana Tan Pissed Off to the Nth Degree expression. 

"Uh-oh," he murmured. 

"Eat fist." 

* * *

Max, Mary, Matt and Ace made it downstairs at the same time the GCPD burst through the door. 

"Stop! Police!" Barbara Gordon aimed her gun around the room, her eyes narrowed at everyone. 

Mary moved Matt to the floor immediately and she had Max had their hands in the air before they were asked. 

"Wow! Cops!" Matt exclaimed, beaming. "I wonder if Batman's here?" 

Barbara's ignored them, her keen eyes going to two figures on the floor. "Down here, boys," she ordered, approaching the suspects. The water pouring from the sprinklers waned and dribbled to a stop as she saw who they were. 

One officer went over to the former captives to check on their well-being. The rest of them followed Commissioner Gordon to where two elderly ladies lay on the floor. 

"I think I broke a hip," Hannah Sinclair gasped. Her hair was hopelessly mussed, her stockings run and her dress torn as she lay at an uncomfortable angle.

"Eh. I think I broke my arm," Selina Kyle admitted, sitting with her back against the closet door, cradling her useless right arm in her lap. 

"Ladies, ladies," Barbara scolded, her enjoyment apparent in her voice. "What do we have here? A cat with only eight lives left--" 

"Oh, bite it, Babsie," Selina snapped. 

"And a bitch in heat. I know all about your little concoction, Hannah and don't think you'll be using any of that where you're going." Barbara's expression was bright. "I don't think I've enjoyed a bust so much in ages." 

* * *

Batman stared at Dana Tan in amazement. 

"We used to date," she explained briefly, her mouth turning down as she shook out her aching fist. She gave Craig's unconscious body a good kick. 

"So I see," Batman said. His vision swam and seconds later he joined Craig on the floor, unconscious. 

* * *

"Bruce." 

"Devon." 

"Should I leave?" Jacob Leventhal asked, scratching the back of his neck. 

"You'd better come with us," Bruce ordered, turning and clomping off toward the house. Devon followed, striding confidently beside him as they entered the front door and Dr. Leventhal brought up the rear. Inside they found Barbara Gordon and her men trying to round up Hannah and Selina without injuring either of them further. 

"I'm a doctor," Leventhal introduced himself as he assessed the situation. "Let me help." He knelt at Hannah's side, taking her wrist in his fingers to measure her pulse. 

"There's a guy upstairs who's going to have a pretty good-sized bruise on his noggin," came a voice from the stairs. 

Everyone looked up to see Dana helping a staggering Batman down the staircase. 

Dr. Leventhal moved to help her support Batman, but the vigilante waved him off. 

"I'm fine," he said instead. "Mr. Wayne? I found this in an painting of yours." He held out the glittering piece of jewelry. 

"That's mine!" Hannah shrieked, holding out a hand for it despite the pain in her hip. 

"I don't think so, sister dear," Devon announced, stepping into view. "Selina stole that from me years ago." 

"Told you that you were going to jail," Barbara said cheerfully to a sputtering former Catwoman. 

"I'm not pressing charges," Devon announced as Batman handed her the charm. "At least not now that I have it back." She opened it and held up the little key. "This goes to a safe deposit box at the First National Bank of Gotham." She smirked at her sister. "Looks like the family fortunate belongs to me after all." 

* * *

**Epilogue: **

"And so Craig's been charged with conspiracy to commit fraud, fraud, attempted murder, all kinds of other things, and…rape." 

"Good," Terry grunted, still nursing his wounded shoulder as he ate his Jello. 

"Yeah," Max confirmed. "An angry Dana's a righteous Dana and she's not real happy that he drugged her." 

"I'm not real happy that he drugged her," Terry growled. "If I ever get my hands on that sucker…" 

"I know, Ter." Max patted his good shoulder as he seethed. "But hey," she said after a moment, "tell me why Hannah Sinclair didn't just bust out with news about you being Batman? There were reporters all over the place and she really could have made some news with that."

"I don't exactly know," Terry admitted. "I asked Bruce and he said that Selina had taken care of it before the police arrived. Something about a little dose of her own medicine." 

"I'm telling you," Max declared, "them old people were looking at each other like sick puppy dogs last night." 

"Aw, Max…" Terry winced. "Don't say things like that. I've heard enough old people sex this week to last the rest of my life." 

"Yeah, you say that 'til YOU get old," Max teased. "I think they're cute." 

"Good to hear, because we'll probably be seeing a lot of them. Selina and my mom are getting together to start up a security company--one of those places that breaks into your house or business and tells you how they got in so you can plug the security leaks. Mom's doing the hacking, Selina's…well, I doubt she' actually crawling into places anymore, but I bet she knows people who can." 

"That's just kinda scary," Max admitted. "Old Ms. Kyle and your mom ganging up on the thieves of the world." 

"No kidding," Terry said. He was about to add that Devon had received custody of her trust fund when he saw a movement in his peripheral vision and glanced over at the door. "Dana!" 

"Hey Terry," Dana replied, her hands twisting together nervously. 

"And…that's my clue to go do some homework," Max announced. "See you, Ter." She left the room, patting Dana on the shoulder as she passed.

"Hey," Terry replied, trying to sit up a little straighter. "How are you doing? I heard you were at Mr. Wayne's place when all that stuff happened." Terry winced internally at the lie. That was it, he decided. He had already decided that he had to tell her. Not being able to tell her the truth about Craig had gotten her hurt once. Enough secrets.

"I'm ok." She walked across the room and sat down in the chair Max had abandoned. 

They exchanged nervous glances and realizing it was time to clear the air, they both spoke at once, "We have to talk." 

The End! 


End file.
